Andromeda's Lament
by xAndromedaBlackx
Summary: Oneshot. Andromeda reflects on her once favorite cousin -aka Sirius-. It's supposed to be angst, but I don't think I did a very good job at it…


**A/N: Yeah… First Black sisters oneshot, despite the fact that my pen name is named after one of them…  
**

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Andromeda Black was the Black family outcast. She had been sorted into Ravenclaw when she went to Hogwarts. She had married a Muggleborn named Ted Tonks. And she had had her name blasted off the Black family tapestry.

There was a time when Sirius Black had been the major outcast of the Black family. Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, and he ran away from home at the age of sixteen.

But then there was that fateful Halloween night. Andromeda still remembered the heart-wrenching words on the radio:

_Sirius Black still at large… overly dangerous criminal… betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who…_

All she could think was, _Sirius? How can it be Sirius? _Sirius had been an Auror, and he had hated the Dark Lord, and was completely opposed to him. Was he really that good of an actor? Was it really possible that Sirius was a Death Eater?

Apparently so. He had been caught the next day—after blowing up a street and killing twelve Muggles as well as his once best friend, Peter Pettigrew.

Peter Pettigrew. Andromeda remembered him. He had been a shy, quiet boy and was a shy, quiet man—mousy, small, and awkward. And all she could think then was _Sirius, how could you?_

Andromeda had tried her best to forget about Sirius. She raised her daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, with Ted, her husband. Nymphadora turned out to be a Metamorphmagus.

Then one day, as her daughter was going through Auror training, the _Daily Prophet _was delivered to their house as usual. Andromeda took a look at the cover. And choked on her morning tea.

Sirius Black, her once-favorite cousin, had escaped from Azkaban.

The man on the cover didn't look like Sirius at all. Sirius had been fun-loving, carefree, and handsome. This man had waxy skin stretched over his face like a corpse, and his eyes were hollow, sunken, and haunted. He had long, filthy, matted hair and was glaring up at her.

Andromeda threw the paper in the fire.

The searches for Sirius were futile. He had never been found; never been captured.

If anyone would escape from Azkaban and stay out of Azkaban, it was Sirius.

Then came the turning point (well, one of the turning points) of Andromeda's life.

Nymphadora came home one day from her flat to visit her parents. And she had big news: She had joined the Order of the Phoenix, an Anti-Voldemort association. She had met Sirius, who was also in the Order of the Phoenix. And he was innocent.

Andromeda didn't know what to think. It wasn't possible. She had convinced herself that Sirius was a murderer and a Death Eater for the past… what was it? Fourteen years?

Apparently not. It turned out, Nymphadora had recalled breathlessly, that Peter Pettigrew had been the Secret Keeper for the Potters. Sirius and Peter had switched at the last moment and had never told anybody, not even Dumbledore.

And then, Andromeda had wanted to know, what about the twelve Muggles Sirius had killed?

Apparently, Nymphadora had replied, it turned out that Peter Pettigrew was the one who had killed the Muggles. He was an unregistered Animagus—a rat—and had faked his own death, killing the Muggles and blowing up the street with a wand behind his back.

Andromeda didn't know what to think.

Nymphadora had insisted that she visit Sirius. Andromeda didn't want to. She wanted to see him, but she didn't want to see him either.

She had thought him a murderer for the past fourteen years. He had been wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban, for Merlin's sake.

What was she supposed to say to him, if she saw him again?

So she didn't visit Sirius.

Another year passed. All Andromeda could think about was Sirius, and whether or not she should visit him. She was embarrassed to have ever thought that he was the murderer, and angry with him for not informing anyone of the switch—why not Dumbledore? There was no way Dumbledore would work for Voldemort. Surely Sirius could have informed Dumbledore of the switch of the Secret Keepers?

Well, he hadn't. And the past couldn't be rewritten.

One day in June, Andromeda received the _Daily Prophet_. She looked on the cover. And she choked on… it was coffee this time, not tea.

_Sirius Black dead… innocent… Order of Merlin, first class… died in battle… Bellatrix Lestrange… torturer of the Longbottoms…Peter Pettigrew… unregistered Animagus… wrongly imprisoned… break-in at the Ministry… Death Eaters… Harry Potter… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…_

She couldn't read anymore.

Sirius had been such a nice boy, and a nice man as well. He had been thrown into Azkaban without a trial, even though he was innocent. And then he had escaped.

And now he was dead.

At the hand of a Death Eater who was _his own cousin _and Andromeda's younger sister, to boot.

And there was no way she could visit him now.

Because he was dead.

And she still regrets it to this day.

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**A/N: Read and review, please? -never tried angst before-**

**(story edited October 6th, 2008)**


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